Taking Chances: Arrested Development
by Idareu2loveme
Summary: The smallest action can change the course of your life-or your un dead existance-forever. Taking a left turn instead of a right. Forgetting an important event. Or, when the woman you love kisses you-kissing her right back.
1. The Chance

Authors Note: Hello out there! I was first introduced to Moonlight during a 2009 sci-fi channel marathon-and I've been hooked every since. I believe it was a literal crime it was canceled-especially before we could see Mick and Beth as a real couple and find out if vampire/human sex involved biting. And Alex O' Loughlin (sexy man!)-it's just not the same watching him on Hawaii Five-O all over muscled with that terrible haircut. And they aren't utilizing his ability to smile the pants off any heterosexual woman or gay man at all. Serious tactical error on the part of the producers of that show.

Anyway in my Moonlight fever I realized there were so many scenes I would have liked to re-write just to see how the story changed and pivoted based on the smallest action. In the end I decided to stop daydreaming my changes to the story line and get them down on paper. Don't you just love that there's an outlet for this kind of this? Whoever created this website I'd like to give you a huge hug and a slap for taking up so much of my time since I was twelve.

**Taking Chances: Arrested Development **

Don't know much about your life

Don't know much about your world

But I don't want to be alone tonight

On this planet they call Earth

**Mick's Voice over**_: The geniuses who came up with Chaos theory illustrated to the world that the slightest act can have the largest repercussions. A butterfly flaps its wings in China and there's a hurricane in Florida. You turn right instead of left or run ten minutes late for work one day and your life changes without you even noticing it; without you ever knowing it. But there are some choices we are in control of. Free will is paramount after all. All the chances we take are on our own head for we are responsible for our actions. Which is maybe why people take so little of them. After all, who knows what might happen._

_Something awful._

_Something wonderful._

_That's why it's called taking a chance. _

**Chapter one **

There are a few things Beth knows about Mick. Being a reporter instilled early in her education a love-no an obsession-with facts. The facts have to be right or the whole story is worthless. Which is one of the things she likes about buzzwire-the place might have an overall vibe of sleaze but Maureen is absolutely paranoid about double checked sources and correct facts. And she hates posting retractions. So Beth's love of facts can be indulged and encouraged.

Which is why she has a list of facts she knows about Mick. It's not written down-it could never be written down, someone might find it. And yes, some of them are more observation than true fact. But they're truthful observations-and it's his own fault anyway because he tells her so damm little.

Fact number one: Mick St. John is an eight five year old vampire. None of which she believed at first. Yes, there was blood and fangs and those weird and beautiful eyes-eyes that haunted her sleep and made her toss and turn with half awake dreams that burned her up and she passed off to Josh as nightmares-but its not like she stuck around that night (that morning really) to see if any of it was, well, costuming.

And then he told her everything and it remained pretty much unbelievable. Ok sure, he was eight five, that's fine. Everyone has a fantasy. And he doesn't age-who would want to? There was a point during that case-the case of the rogue vampiric doctor- when she started to seriously wonder why she was in this man's car.

Except, even if part of her thought he (and possible herself as well) was insane and the other half of her was wrestling with accepting the idea that vampires might be real, she felt safe with him. Totally safe. Like an atom bomb could fall right on top of her and everything would still be fine because Mick just wouldn't let anything hurt her. Like for him, a reality didn't exists where she could hurt with him around. And somehow she knew it was true.

And then the whole stake in the heart thing happened and all of a sudden she had to believe. Because there was a moment there when she was watching that terrible, horrifying, almost made her faint wound heal when she saw his heart. His slowly, too slowly for a human, beating heart. And then it was gone, the wound vanishing beneath new pink skin that absorbed the blood and closed up without even a scar.

So Mick was a vampire.

Fact number two: sometimes Mick stood so still she thought that maybe he was a statue or a cardboard cutout or something. Like when she reunited Cherish with her parents (what was that girl's real name anyway?) and she looked over and there he was-dirty and tired looking but so damm still that she thought if she turned around for just a second he'd still be there. He'd always be there. But he wasn't, which leads her to Mick fact number three.

Mick doesn't hang around. He vanishes, evades most of her questions and disappears whenever anything good gets started. And after she fed him (she FED him!) he just totally ignored her. Even when she was right outside his door and she knew he was inside because in some way she could never hope to explain she could feel him through the door, he just wouldn't let her in.

Which is why this time she chased after him. Cherish was hugging her parents and Maureen was in a snit because none of it was going to be online. And Mick was gone and seeing the spot where he stood-the spot he looked so much like a permanent fixture in-so empty made it so Beth couldn't breathe.

"I've gotta go." She told Maureen, and she went.

She'd only known him for a little under a month (hard to believe, but oddly true according to the calendar) but Mick's silhouette-hell everything about him, everything that she knew anyway (and a whole hell of a lot she imagined) was burned into her brain. The fact he wasn't in the parking lot was a blow, but his car was still there.

God she loved that car.

She wandered over to the beautiful classic (not unlike its owner in that fashion), eyes skimming the shadowy areas of the lot. He must be here if his car is still here right?

And then he popped up in front of her like an extremely graceful jack in the box. She gasped, more from his sudden proximity to her then from the sudden movement. Even in the dim light she could see the patches of what looked like machine grease on his face and hands-and a darker stain running down the neck of his shirt that looked suspiciously like dried blood. She opened her mouth to ask but then he jiggled his car keys and smiled at her-just a quick little half smile- and her stomach flopped like she was a thirteen year old and the question fled from her brain.

That was another fact about Mick. One look from him made her forget everything-including any reason she shouldn't be (among other things) kissing him right now.

God she loved his lips. And his smile. And his hair.

Beth curled he hands into fists to keep herself from touching him. It had been like this since the moment she met him, and this force that was pulling her towards him, pulling them together (she could see it in his eyes, see him fighting it) had only gotten stronger since the desert. Since she demanded he drink her blood to keep him alive and he responded with a vehement, "Not like this!"

She had spent countless hours since then stroking the scars on her wrist and puzzling over the phrase.

Not like this?

Like what then?

She'd seen a vampire movie or two, and though she now knew most of the vampire details were way off she had to wonder about the whole orgasmic biting thing. The bite in the desert has been pure survival for Mick, the simple fact that there had been no gentleness in it made it clear how far gone Mick really was. So what would it be like when he was healthy? If he was not dying or even hungry but…just wanted to taste her? To drink her in?

The possibilities made her shiver and gasp. And the desire had only gotten stronger since he clacked his teeth together in the morgue when asking if the killer's odd MO was that of "a biter" and it made the twin puncture marks on her arm (among other places) tingle.

"You just took off" she said, hating herself for sounding like an abandoned child.

"Well, you were kind of tied up with your editor" he said.

Yep. Mick evading and running. One of the few things she really knew about him.

"You could at least have said goodbye." Now her nails were digging into her hands she was trying so hard not to reach out and stroke his face-or grab him and force him to stay by her side. She wanted…she wanted…

Mick smiled again and her brain was gone. "Ok." He said. "Good.."

He didn't get to finish. Her lips interrupted him and all sound coming from him stopped. She wasn't even sure if he was breathing. He definitely wasn't moving. But his mouth was partially open and she could taste the faint tinge of copper, which was a little sharp but not at all unpleasant. The feel of his lips below hers was nothing short of divine but his overall lack of response almost made her feel like crying.

She pulled back and the happily astonishment when his mouth followed hers as they pulled apart and it made pooled heat between her legs. She couldn't help smiling at him, sure a mixture of smugness and lust were showing on her face. He breathed, a big drawn in gust of air. His eyes, his beautiful, beautiful eyes were shocked and…was that awe? Confusion? Regret? Want?

"Bye." He finished, and spurned on by the emotion she couldn't identify by name but understood and yearned for all the same she unclenched her hands and reached forward. Gently stroked his grease stained face. And leaned in again.

This time he was breathing. And even if it was slight, his lips moved beneath hers. She raked her teeth over his lower lip and kept herself from moving closer. Because Mick may have been participating, but it was so slight. Maybe just the reaction of any man being kissed by any woman. Any second now, she told herself, she was going to pull away, run away. And then wait and see what he did. That was the safe course of action.

And then she felt it-so gentle and soft that it was barely there. His hand, the same one still holding his keys, gently came to rest at her hip. His fingers skimmed the tiny barrier of skin between her shirt and jeans. It was a butterfly touch, so very tentative but it was there.

She leaned forward and curled her fingers into his hair, wrapped her other arm around his neck and pulled him as close as she could, nestling into his hard body. His hand became more present, moving backwards to cup her hip as the other arm wound around her back. She could feel his keys digging into her side. And she didn't care.

Because now he was kissing her back.

…..

This was really not a good idea. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was a great idea. Mick couldn't decide.

After all he'd been telling the truth when he said sex between humans and vampires was seriously inadvisable-there was the whole biting thing and the whole being ten times stronger and able to crush like them a paper cup accidentally thing. And Beth-despite her endless questions and perseverance-was basically an innocent when it came to the realities of his world. And 58 years younger than him. And she had a boyfriend.

But if there was one thing he'd learned in eight-five years, it was that what he wanted didn't always matter.

Except when it was the only thing that did.

And kissing Beth-he wanted that. He wanted that so much it hurt and holding her close to him, sharing skin and breath, well that was heaven. And the thought of giving it up was hell. He could stay like this forever, wrapped around her, discovering the exact taste and texture of every inch of her mouth. Memorizing how her tongue moved against his own, how she kissed him like the air she needed to survive could only be found in his lungs.

It had been so long since he'd let himself have something he wanted.

And so long since he wanted anybody this way.

He was vaguely aware that Beth was stealing his car keys out of his hand, and he only noticed that because of the momentary absence of her hand around his neck. His vampire hearing registered the key in the lock, but then her lips delved deeper into his and blood rushed south of his brain and he was gone. Then the click of the drivers' side door opening and Beth was shoving him (shoving a vampire! He really needed to talk to her about basic self preservation) through the door, which sent him sprawling on his back across the front seat of his Mercedes, with the gear shift digging into his back and the steering wheel nudging his ribs a little painfully. Not that it mattered. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow question and she smiled-a pure playful smile filled with desire and need-and then Beth crawled through the door and was lying on top of him.

The position was awkward-his feet were still on the parking lot pavement and the gap between the front seats didn't make for good back support. But Beth's lips were fixed on his like they were fused together and his hand was making lazy circles on her stomach as hers ran through his hair and stroked the back of his neck. And he could feel the heat emanating from her body in waves and smell pure desire in the air and taste trust in her saliva. So nothing else mattered.

He was just inching her shirt up and starting to discover how very close the resemblance the skin on her upper back was to silk when she stopped.

…..

It took every ounce of self control Beth had to pull away, but she managed to do it. She straightened up so she was straddling Mick's waist and looked down at him.

And the second she did she saw the pure panic in Mick's eyes. Even before he started to open his mouth she knew what he was going to say. Something along the lines of how it shouldn't have happened, how it could never happen again, how she should run home to her very safe and very human boyfriend.

Josh…the thought of him stopped her for maybe a nano-second.

Beth put her finger in front of Mick's lips to shush him and then traced them gently, enjoying how firm and soft-and slightly cool- they were beneath her finger. It wasn't easy to get out what she wanted to say. The possibility for rejection was enormous.

"There's a hotel across the street" Beth said, focusing on a spot somewhere above Mick's eyebrows, "a Hilton I think. If I'm there in ten minutes…could you meet me?"

Now Mick was sitting up, bring them face to face-and groin to groin. Beth bit her lip to keep from moaning. If he said no she needed to walk out of here with her self esteem as intact as possible.

But he didn't say no. He brought a hand up to her face and stroked his thumb gently along the curve of her jaw, lifting her chin up and forcing her to look at him.

Once again she couldn't identify what was in his eyes. Some mixture of awe, sadness and confusion. And desire-that was there too.

"Beth.." he started to talk.

Once again she interrupted him with a kiss. This time she poured all of her confused, mixed up feelings for him into it. Every dream of him that left her aching, every memorized time he'd smiled at her, the pure terror she'd felt when she thought he was dead-and the complete joy that he wasn't and the more than slightly inappropriate euphoria over the fact that she was the one who would bring him back to life. Their tongues dueled and Beth curled her fingers into his hair, unable to keep herself from rocking her hips against him. She could feel him rock hard underneath her and just that small amount of friction against the fly of her jeans was enough to rip a moan from her. Only this time she didn't have to worry about being on equal ground because now he was moaning too.

She pulled back slowly, not stopping the movement of her hips, and was met with a dazed, slightly drugged looking expression on Mick's face. She was sure she didn't look much different. She was hallow, empty, wet and aching. She wanted him inside her so badly that it almost hurt.

"Yes" he rasped, his voice heavy with lust. She rocked against him again, this time grinding her hips down on his as hard as she could. He growled (the sound rumbled through her body and made her even wetter) and for a second his eyes flashed from smoky blue/green to silvery-blue. She loved it.

"I'll meet you." He chocked out, eyes back to normal now. "But you have to stop that or we won't make it there."

Beth smiled and leaned in a final time to kiss him. Short and sweet-and promising better things to come. "I'll text you when I have a room number." She said.

"No" Mick was stroking her hair, making her feel like a contented cat in heat. "Just leave the window open. I'll find you."

…..

Mick had something to do before the hotel rendezvous.

But getting them both out of the car was difficult. Not only in the emotional sense-he didn't want to let go, didn't want to give her time to change her mind, and wanted her to change her mind all at the same time. He managed to quell those feelings. Physically getting out the car was the hard part-their awkward position left her crawling backwards and him doing a weird sort of scrunch which left him sitting in the driver's seat. Not to mention the physical contact (rubbing really) that ensued during the movement which left her gasping and him trying desperately not to throw her down under him and bury himself inside of her. It didn't help that he could smell how desperately turned on she was.

Beth started to hand him his keys and stopped, staring at him. She moved her hand back to keep them out of his reach. "You're not going to run away from me, are you?" she asked.

Mick smiled and did a quick vamp move to steal his keys back. "I'm not running." He said, as much to himself as to her, "I just need to grab something."

'Ok." Beth smiled and he could feel nervous tension radiating off her. "Ten minutes right?"

"Ten minutes" Mick promised.

AN: Thanks to everyone out there who read this. There is more to come in the very near future. Eventually I hope to a whole series of Taking Chances fics- each one based in a different episode and spiraling out from that point. I just to say that when I was newer to I often read without reviewing-even on stories I really loved. So please let me know you think. My self esteem could use a boost (or can take the hit, whatever the case may be.) Have a happy day and Blessed Be!


	2. The Choice

Author's Note: Hello again fellow Moonlight fans! I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for the short length of this chapter-but it got a little away with me and had to be split into two. So the good news is chapter three will be up soon. I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read my little story and an especial thanks to those who reviewed. I'd also like to encourage you to review if you aren't doing so-I can always use criticisms, suggestions or an ego boost. Also the rating on this story will likely change to M very soon (though I'm a little concerned it should be already-could someone lend their thought to that maybe?) and I wanted you all to know. And now without further ado…

**Taking Chances: Arrested Development**

You don't know about my past and

I don't have a future figured out

And maybe this is goin' to fast

And maybe its not meant to last…

**Mick's Voice over:**___the only problem with taking a chance is that it makes you vulnerable. Once one risk is taken it creates a sort of chain reaction-and you're not always in control of it. Sometimes the only thing you can do is hold on tight, trust your instincts and hope for the best. Sometimes you can do more. The game is chance after all- and how smart, strong or rich you are has nothing to do with the outcome. Only lady luck can tip the scales your way. _

**Chapter Two: The Choice**

Exactly ten minutes and fifteen seconds later Beth was pacing nervously in her hotel room, wearing the tread of her shoes into the carpet fibers as she trekked between the door and the window. She'd opened it, and refrained from texting him, even though she was on the fifth floor and didn't see a fire escape around anywhere. Part of her wondered why he'd insisted on the window-did he not want to be seen with her going into the lobby, reeking of lust and unable to keep from touching every few seconds? Did he just want to give her time alone to think-to change her mind?

Well, he was certifiably crazy if he thought she was backing out now. From the moment she'd seen him at two in the morning at the fountain she'd wanted him. Even before she heard his voice-even before she knew what a good man he was, how kind and gentle and unjustly tormented. Before she had any clue he was anything more than an ordinary man.

That was a lie. She always knew he wasn't anywhere near ordinary.

She had just finished her pacing route and turned around and was heading back to the door to check through the peephole when he came. Emerging out of the night sky like he really could fly he came through the window in what she recognized was an incredible leap and landing gracefully, like a cat, in a crouched position.

Startled and speechless she just stared. But she was never speechless for long.

"I thought you said you couldn't fly!" she accused.

Mick laughed as rose from his crouch and it was the most beautiful, full noise she had ever heard, accompanied by a larger smile than she'd ever seen on his face. He was, she realized, even more gorgeous then she'd previously thought.

"I can't fly." He was still smiling at her as he set a manila folder on the desk near the window, "but I do have an amazing vertical leap."

"I'll say." Beth peered out the window. "You just jumped up five stories."

Mick's smile turned a little apologetic. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just hardly ever get to do that for fun reasons."

Now that a new vampiric ability had been revealed Beth the reporter kicked in, her goals temporarily the same as Beth the lust ridden maniac. Know as much as possible about Mick. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

Mick gently tugged at the ends of Beth hair, fingering the individual strands like they were fine silk. "Your heartbeat. "He said smiling.

"There must be almost a thousand people in this hotel-you could still pick out my heartbeat?"

Now his hands were wandering beyond her hair to her neck, stroking and massaging it. A kind of strangled sign escaped her lips. His hands moved down to her shoulders and he moved closer, resting his forehead on her own.

"I could find you anywhere" he whispered. "Joseph likes to tell me, frequently. that I'm 'positively pavlovian' when it comes to you."

She was dizzy from sheer proximity. Every inch of her skin ached from lack of being touched. "Who's Josef?" she mused.

"An old friend." Mick was still whispering, "You met him today, remember? The grand escort telephone adventure?" he teased. Then he was leaning closer and his lips were on hers and her hands were buried in his hair to get his closer. For a moment it was just lips but then his tongue was asking entrance and she was swept aside in a tidal wave. His hands were around the small of her back and she was as close as was physically possibly with clothes on.

She'd never been kissed like this. So much longing pored into the movements of his lips and hands, so much want in the way his hips ground against hers pushing his erection into her stomach. And there was more.

He was purring. A pure sound of contentment mixed with some low growls that were demanding so much more. That was fine with Beth. She wanted a lot more too. Mick's hands grasped her thighs, pulling them higher on his body and changing the angle of what was pretty much full on dry humping. Beth almost winced as the crude terminology crossed her mind. They had to lose some clothing, fast

She started to inch his blue Henley up but he stopped and pulled away with a heavy sigh. She started to ask him what was wrong-because after that kiss she knew there was no way he wanted to leave even if he thought this was "inadvisable" and "would never end well." But he beat her to the punch.

"I'm sorry." He said, gulping for air, his forehead once more resting against hers. "I shouldn't have done not before…but I just needed once to remember in case you…"

He was babbling, Nervous. She didn't think she'd every seen him nervous. Shamed we she caught him red handed (or red fanged) on the night she learned his secret, but never nervous. Beth tightened her hold on his neck and started into his eyes.

"What is it Mick?"

He let go then and her body burned where his arms had held it. He reached behind him and grabbed the folder he came in with. Up close she could see it was old and much handled and even now he was carrying it like it was a precious object.

"You need to see this." Mick handed her the folder and she recognized a mixture of sadness and shame in his voice. "The whole thing. Then, if you want me to leave I will. If you want to never see me again, fine. In fact whatever you want, you got it. But this," he gestured between the two of them, "can't happen unless you know the truth."

"The truth about what?" Beth asked, exceptionally puzzled and choosing to look at Mick instead of the folder.

"The truth about how we first met."

…..

Exactly four minutes and forty eight seconds before he was due in Beth's hotel room Mick was rooting around in his old files. Nineteen Eight five to be exact.

The folder he was looking for wasn't nearly as thick as some of the others. It didn't contain days of notes taken on stakeouts and in interviews, no reports of interactions with official authorities, no written forensic evidence. Nothing that was analyzed and mulled over. Compared to every other case he'd worked the case had been short and simple to solve. Follow a sent trail. A sent that he knew as well as the back of his hands. Maybe better.

The end result of the case-Beth's case, Coraline's case and what could even be construed as his own divorce case was neither simple nor quick. But the file didn't reflect that. It didn't contain Beth's nightmares and the subsequent fearlessness she had forced herself to learn, or Coraline's desperation to keep her marriage together or the mentally unbalancing love she felt Mick. Mick's own grief and guilt weren't included either and nor were the mixed relief and horrifying reality that the sick joke of a marriage he'd been living with was finally over but the life Coraline had forced upon him was unchanging.

From the perspective of another PI, or a cop, this was a fairly normal file. One sheet reflecting the client's problem, a description of the missing child and a short paragraph detailing the recovery of the child. If it wasn't for the fact that the child had been found the file would have been viewed as an example of shoddy work with no effort put into it. There just wasn't enough detail. No sources or avenues of investigation listed and a total failure to mention where the child had been found or who had taken her.

And then there were the pictures.

A dozen or so, all identified by year on the back in the same neat handwriting except for the very first one where the ink was smeared by tears and clearly in a different hand. But it was what wasn't written on the back that really told the story. Those comments he had memorized-they went with the mood when he got the picture in question. Some where in his own voice-some oddly, reminded him of nothing more than Joseph. But they were all set in stone. He could almost see they chiseled on the back of the photo paper.

Beth Turner, age 4. _Please help my baby._

Beth Turner, age 5 at a farm. _**Look at that, an ordinary kid. Thank God.**_

Beth Turner, age 6, at the beach. _**Happy, healthy. I did something right.**_

Beth Turner age 12, horse camp. _**She's growing up fine. She's safe. Coraline is gone for good. I can probably stop this now.**_ And as an afterthought- _**she's going to beautiful one day.**_

Beth turner age 15, first high school dance. _**St. John give it up. No teenager wants a personal vampiric stalker. Look at that dress-she's much to young to wear something with such tiny straps and a hem above the knees but… you're not her father and that's not your call, and would you want to be anyway? Shut up and walk away St. John. And no, you cannot eat her date.**_

Beth Turner age 21 in a bar. _**I should have stopped this years ago. Now she's grown up-a woman-and this is getting creepy. **_

Beth Turner, 26. Kelley Foster's funeral. _**Face it Mick, she's safe and normal. This obsession has nothing to do with keeping her safe and everything to do with keeping her close. Give it up before…before…crap. It's already too late isn't it? Nice job buddy. Now you're in love**_.

And now he had to show them to Beth. Because as much as just the idea of what was going to happen in…two minutes and eighteen seconds now…scared the crap out of him the idea of her finding out about this later (and it was only a matter of time where Beth was concerned) without him to explain and justify and…

_**Bullshit**_, his mind supplied.

Yes, that was the word. If he couldn't bullshit it into something marginally less creepy then it was, he was afraid she'd run out the door.

And she deserved to know. It wasn't right taking advantage of any repressed feelings she might have for a childhood savior she didn't even know she was feeling or subconsciously recognizing (after all, she kept bringing up how familiar he looked and seemed to trust him as though she'd known him her entire life) just to sleep with her.

Because as much as he wanted Beth's body- a night to touch and caress her and find out every spot on it that made her scream and squirm and the noises that went along with it (and just thinking about it was making Mick squirm), he wanted her trust, her companionship, her presence in his life more. He could go to the hotel and kiss her and forget about her file and the history and emotional load that went with it but he knew where that would lead. The alternative just wasn't worth it.

And a part of him was still desperately hoping that if she knew the truth, the whole and complete truth, she would see past the creepiness to where it had led and let him love her like she deserved.

A minute and thirty seconds left now. The Mercedes would never make it. Mick would have to run.

He tucked the file into an envelope so nothing would fall out and said a quick prayer he wasn't sure he had the faith for to a God he had long doubted the existence of. And then he left to meet Beth.

A/N: Remember to review! It's good for the soul! Chapter threes coming up soon. Remember the rating will soon change from Teen to Mature so be on the lookout. And if anyone out there could tell me if they think this belongs in mature already-I'd really like to know. I'd hate to have this story bumped off. Have a nice day and Blessed Be!


	3. The Fallen Angel

**Author's Note: **Hi Guys! I am so happy with the overwhelming positive response I am getting so far to this story. Before you continue on I do have a little bit of bad news- there's no rating change for this chapter (you can probably figure out what that means there is a lack of…) but hug issues are about to be raised-big secrets revealed. Talks must commence. I hope you enjoy this and remember to review! (It's good for the soul!)

**Taking Chances: Arrested Development**

But what do you say to taking chances

What do you say to jumping off the edge

Never knowing if there's solid ground below

Or a hand to hold

Or hell to pay

What do you say

What do you say…

Mick's Voice Over: _Some people say trust is earned. Others say it doesn't mean a thing unless its freely given-expecting nothing in return. It's been a long time since I've trusted anyone so I'm not really in a position to who's right or wrong. All I know is that trust is the easiest thing in the world to loose. And when it breaks-just like fragile glass-you never have much hope of putting it back together._

**Chapter Three: The Fallen Angel**

Beth was incredulous, and slightly irritated. Mick should be touching her not wanting her to look at old files. "What do you mean when we met?" She asked, frustration (mostly the sexual kind) poring off of her. "There was a dead girl in fountain with two fake fang marks on her neck. It was my first live web cast and I guess you were checking out the vampire angle…" all of a sudden wheels turned in her head and Mick's face turned some strange mix of sheepish and strange…"which there is no way you could have known about before being there. So unless you just drop in on every middle of the night crime scene-which I'm pretty sure you don't-then what the hell were you doing there?"

Mick was rocked back on heels now, half leaning against one of the many wooden end tables stationed about the room.

"You were kidnapped" he said, his voice low and calming, the voice of a parent telling a story to a child that the child does not want to know but none the less needs to hear "when you were four years old."

It didn't surprise Beth that Mick knew. After their initial encounter-well, really their second one, where she had broken a vase over a vase over his head and gotten a look at his P.I. license Beth had done all she could to dig up dirt of the ever vanishing, extremely mysterious and oh so familiar in a away she just couldn't place stranger. After all, because of all the lurking, she considered him a viable suspect in Kelley Fosters' murder for a very short while. It didn't surprise her in the least that he would have done his own due diligence-and aside a long list of semi sleazy semi professional web news articles and then college and high school newspaper stories the kidnapping was what you got when you ran the name Elizabeth Marie Turner through any system.

Beth interrupted Mick and her train of thought, her voice irritated, flat and almost emotionless. "I really, really don't like talking about that part of my life Mick." Cold welled inside of her as visions of fire and two adults who fought like warring titans over her flashed behind her eyes-she hugged her middle and shook her head to make the scene in her head disappear. Mission accomplished she smiled again at Mick and moved to grab his hand kiss him again. "Besides that was twenty two years ago-and has nothing to do with why we're here tonight."

Mick sighed and dragged his hand across his face-a face that only moments ago had held flirting laughter and lust was now filled with anguish and shame. "Beth the story of how and why you were taken has everything to do with why I was at the fountain that night. I really need you to let me finish telling it to you and then show you some things and then you can make whatever choice you want, but I have to be able to get through this uninterrupted."

Everything in Mick's expression and voice begged Beth to trust him. And she did-she trusted this man with everything-with her life and the life of those she loves. So much that she let him, a dying vampire, feed off her. It was totally irrational trust and she'd felt it from the moment she got over the fact she had just smashed a potential piece of evidence in a murder victims house on a perfectly nice, shockingly handsome P.I's face-who had a habit of disappearing. "I won't talk. I Trust you. Tell me the Story."

"The police couldn't find you. Which isn't surprising and certainly wasn't their fault-they weren't meant to. So after four days your mother became desperate and she went to a private investigator. One she heard never gave up. One she heard had a history of solving impossible cases."

Beth's heartbeat spiked and this time arousal had nothing to do with it. "No..." she whispered.

"This P.I." Mick continued, "He went to your room. And because he was no ordinary P.I. he closed his eyes and he breathed deep to his great surprise he didn't even need to see what had happened four nights before to know what had happened and who had the little girl. Because the scent in the room was one he knew as well as his own."

Mick's hands went out and gently pulled Beth's into his. "It was the scent of the creature that had made him so not very ordinary. So not human. The scent of his wife."

Beth couldn't breath. She couldn't speak. The scary lady…that dark, impossibly beautiful woman who had terrorized her nightmare for 22 years after somehow treating her like her own daughter-but wrongly, so very wrongly- was The Coraline who had turned Mick into a vampire on their wedding night. She wanted to scream to offer some sort of denial but the soothing motion of Mick's thumb brushing over the skin of her hands suddenly forced the fact into her consciousness-like a sludge hammer to the head- that he was her guardian angel, her man in the leather jacket who had come and saved her and taken her home after killing…

Suddenly her knees went weak and buckled and Beth would have hit the floor had Mick's vamp reaction time not allowed him to swoop her up bridal style and lay her on the very lovely bed the room possessed. Which she had been so sure-and hopeful, so hopeful (like a kid who still believes in Santa on Christmas morning, say around 12: 01 who thinks they might be able to catch him putting the presents under the tree and maybe pet the reindeer)- they would be using for vastly different activities.

He was so gentle as he lay her on the bed. His hands so soft as he moved her limbs, his eyes so very sad, saying more with one glance then he could hope to communicate with hours of words. Gently, so gently, he brushed his hand over forehead and then allowed his lips to follow it.

This gentle kiss-so innocent-so very human in it's nature brought Beth out of her stupor, out of the terrorized four year old state any mention of the kidnapping put her into. Before he could pull back too far she reached and snatched his hand, grabbing hard, not worried that she was capable of hurting Mick physically.

"You killed your wife" she said, surprised by how strong and clear her voice sounded to her own ears, "you killed her to save me."

"Yes." Mick said. In all her time as a reporter Beth had never heard the kind of sincere empathy and remorse coming from anyone like it was coming from Mick now. "We'd been having problems in the marriage" He squeezed her hand, leaned down and kissed her forehead again, brushed fine blond strands off her forehead, " the kind of problems you get when one of the partners turns the other into a monster without asking first or disclosing that they happen to be a vampire."

"You're not a monster Mick." Beth kissed his knuckles. But she could tell from his sad half smile that her statement-which was beginning to sound like a broken record since she had to contradict him every time he said he was a monster (which wasn't infrequent) - had a minimal impact.

"We'd been separated for some time" Mick continued, slipping onto the bed so he was sitting with his back against the back board, one leg stretched on the bed, one foot on the floor and one arm around Beth's ribcage as she leaned into him and rested her head on his chest; his hands clasped around her own. He continued talking but kept his gaze fixed on the wall ahead as though he were a college lecturer giving a speech to a large class. "Almost a decade really. But then she came back from god knows where and wanted to get back together. So for a while we did. It was our thing, fight, split up, get back together and repeat. But this time I was really fed up with her mind games, so the fighting started after just a couple of days. This latest fight was about something that I brought up whenever I really wanted to provoke Coraline -it was the one thing she couldn't say she'd made better for me by turning me- how she had taken away the choice and the chance for me ever to have any children."

Mick got Beth looked up at Mick but he was steadfastly refusing to meet her eyes. She gently squeezed his hand, alarmed by the overwhelming feeling of hatred for the woman who had taken this man-this wonderful man-and turned him such a tortured person who believed himself unworthy of being touched or trusted. And if she'd thought his trust issues made sense before now she marveled that he ever let anyone get close him-his marriage sounded like a nightmare beyond compare.

"Anyway," Mick continued, "when I followed the scent trail that night and found you and her, hiding up in that old cabin-the place wasn't even wired for electricity- she started talking about how we could be a family. 'You, me and baby' she said." He turned his head and looked at Beth, meeting her gaze for the first time since starting his story. "She was going to turn you. Keep your body eternally young and childish while your mind aged into an adult, all because she thought it would keep up together. But there were two things Coraline didn't realize. One was I wouldn't never let a child be turned and tortured that way and the other was no matter what she did we were never going to be the husband and wife she envisioned us being-that future disappeared the moment she bit me on our wedding night. When she realized I wouldn't go along with her plan I had to stake her to get you out of there. And I knew that with Coraline around you'd never be safe-she'd hurt you or turn you just to get at me. So I burned the cabin down."

Wheels turned in Beth's head. "Fire kills Vampires right?

Mick smiled a grim, thin lipped smile. "Yes."

"Oh God Mick!" Beth sat up fully on the bed and threw both her arms around him, squeezing him until she feel the weave of his Henley and the slow but oh so precious beat of his heart in her very bones. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and breathed in deep, deep gusts of air, letting his scent-which was pure cold more than anything else mixed in with what she supposed she green tea scented soap- wash over her and fill her lungs and bloodstream, carrying messages to every part of her body that said we are safe now. We are with Mick.

Her heart broke for him. It must have been so hard-not only actually killing his wife, even if he had hated her but coming here tonight and telling her about it. Owning up to his role in such a dark part of her past. But still…

When she was younger, after the kidnapping, Beth had given her rescuer the role of guardian angel in her life and decided that somehow this man had been assigned the task of watching over her. Where other girls wrote to diaries, she wrote him- a shadowy figure of a massively strong, fearless man in a leather jacket. A man who fought a terrible fight against a deadly foe and came out victorious and whisked Beth away to safety through the night sky.

It was no surprise really that her first crush happened to be on the guardian angel.

….

Beth was shifting around in Mick' laps now so she was half sitting on him and half on the bed-with her wrists locked firmly behind his neck. "Mick?" she whispered and it broke his heart that his Beth, the vivacious loud mouthed, take no prisoners Beth was whisperings when there was absolutely no reason to "Look at me."

Mick dreaded looking up. Even if she had been saved by him-even she had the vestiges if hero worship locked somewhere in her brain-her mother, in one of the yearly letters he got telling him how well Beth was doing and thanking him again for saving her life, had told him how she thought of him as some sort of angel and even asked him to come meet her once though he declined because he wanted so badly for her to move on-she must realize that this was his fault.

Over the years he and Coraline had tortured each other and called it a marriage he had taunted her so many times about children-how their lives were empty and selfish because of their lack, how maybe their marriage would work if they had one. It was only a tactic-the one way he had to make her feel guilt for turning him and the loss of her own humanity. By the time she had taken Beth a whole orphanage full of children-biologically his or not-couldn't have convinced him to stay with his wife.

But Coraline didn't realize that.

Beth stared into his eyes as she stroked his neck. Her touch on his body was so warm it was like a piece of the sun was trapped under her skin. "You saved me." She said, "And it must have been horrible. Having to hurt someone you once loved so much. And coming here and telling me like this when you could have just come in and kissed me and we would have…" with those words, in spite of the heavy subject matter mentioned just a minute ago this tantalizing images of bare skin and gasping breaths filled his mind-and Beth as well he guessed from the way her face was turning bright red.

She shifted, sat up straight and threw one of her legs over to his other side so now she was straddling him, but hovering over his lap, denying him the contact he so badly wanted. It truly it amazing, Mick mused silently, how simple desire (though there was nothing simple about it, his whole being was burning for this incredible woman before him) could make everything else disappear. The hands that had been massaging his neck slipped into his hair and began to play with it as she finally sank down into his lap. Mick bit back a groan as Beth leaned in and kissed him for all she was worth, letting herself succumb to every little impulse: to nibble his lower lip, to gently trace the fangs he couldn't keep from descending with her tongue and to arc her neck in a completely none sublet invitation to bite her as she trailed her own kisses away from his lips and down his neck.

"Wait…Wait!" Mick was breathing so heavily he was almost panting and it was taking everything he had in to not just grab her hips and grind then into his massive erection like it was a ride in a carnival.

**After all**, an internal voice sounding like Joseph's usual mocking supplied - **she is tall enough. **

If Joseph was the devil on one shoulder then Beth was the angel on the other. And he wasn't letting her walk into this-no matter how desperately he wanted it-without her knowing everything.

"There's something else you need to know" he said, "After Coraline's death I was a wreck I knew I'd done the right thing but I couldn't get over the fact that I had loved her once. I stopped working, eating. At one point Joseph had me kidnapped and force fed. He was convinced I was trying to starve myself to death."

Mick could literally see the curiosity spark in Beth's eyes as she thought of a new question to ask him. He beat her to it. "Yes. A vampire can starve to death but the process takes a very, very long time to complete and in the meantime that vampire become increasingly dangerous to those around him. And I wasn't trying to do that. I just- life suddenly became so empty. And then I got the letter."

Beth sank backwards, pulling her weight out of his lap and leaning against his bent knees. "What letter?"

Mick smiled for the first time since he starting telling this ghastly fairy tale. Gently he reached forward and brushed a spare curl of spun gold out of Beth's eyes. He'd always loved her eyes- even when she was a child they'd been deep and perceptive-and often full of secrets and schemes. Not to mention they were the most beautiful color of blue he thought he'd ever seen.

"Your mother sent me a letter on the one year anniversary of your safe return home. I hadn't been having a good day-nothing could stop me from thinking about Coraline. But this letter said how well you were doing-how happy you were. So I decided to look for myself. "

Beth frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't remember meeting you" she said thoughtfully, "and while it makes sense I would block out the kidnapping, why would I block out a meeting with the man who saved me?"

Mick could feel the dread twisting in his stomach. In a minute she would learn the truth and he would never see her again. "You didn't see me," he said, trying to keep his voice under control, "I didn't get that close. But I saw that you were happy and healthy and suddenly the events of that night a year before meant something. It meant that you were alive."

Beth reached out to stroke his cheek but Mick was across the room before her could make contact with his face. In his hands he grasped the envelope. It felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second. He handed it to Beth and watched as she opened it.

…

Beth took the package carefully, mindful of its age and opened it. They tumbled out in a flash of shiny photo paper. One by one she looked at them, totally silent but completely aware of Mick buzzing with nervous energy on the far side of the room.

Some of the pictures were old-some more recent. One, she thought, had been taken at Kelley Foster's funeral. The idea of someone tracking her life like this-following her wherever she went and documenting it without her knowledge was sickening. For about a second. And then she remembered that it was Mick who had these photos. And though she didn't know the reason why (or maybe she did now that she knew he was the one who rescued her when she was four) she trusted him completely. Blindly.

She looked up from the photos on the bed to Mick, hoping to see some sort of answer in his face. He seemed to understand because he started talking again.

"Over the years-every now and then – I would check up on you. Make sure you were doing ok. " He moved closer to the bed, taking slow measured steps as though he expected her to be afraid of him "I should have stopped here" he pointed to a photo of her at her first real dance when she was fifteen (she remembered the dress, her father thought it was too short and skimpy), " not only because it was clear you were fine but because it was getting creepy. I wasn't checking up on a little girl with no defenses anymore. You were well on your way to womanhood." He paused for a second then grinned ruefully, "the fact I wanted to eat your date should have tipped me off it was time to stop."

Beth could feel a warm light growing inside of her, stretching down all the pathways in her body until it had filled every appendage, finger, toe, muscle, bone and blood vessel. She couldn't stop the thought that she was made from light from entering her brain.

"You were watching over me" she said, smiling and holding her hand out so Mick would come sit beside her. But he remained firmly fixed on the other side of the room.

"I was stalking you" Mick corrected, shame and resignation heavy in his tone, " and if anyone else had been doing it I would have killed them."

Beth couldn't help but laughing. Her golden inner light seemed to filled with champagne bubbles. "But it wasn't anyone else. It was you."

"I shouldn't have been doing it either!"

This time when Beth grabbed his hand she yanked him hard so he landed half on the bed. The scene was so ridiculous looking that they both burst out laughing- creating a much needed tension diffuser.

Mick finally got up and made to head to his corner again but Beth grabbed his hand for the third time. "I can do this all night" she warned, not at all surprised to realize it was true, "or you can come and talk to me. Over here."

With a resigned sigh Mick did as he was told and sat down on the bed. Beth grabbed his hands so their fingers were as interwoven as a cats cradle. "Do you know" she asked, gazing into Mick's blue/green eyes, "how long I've been searching for my guardian angel? How long I looked for you? For years every guy I saw in a leather jacket with dark hair was you. And then when w met I didn't even recognize you! My own angel…"

"I'm no angel and you know it…"

"You saved me for a horrible fate-being forced to kill someone you loved in the process and then watched over me for years With the exception of the killing I think that's pretty much the guardian angel code of conduct. Hey, you even told me about all this tonight because you didn't want to take advantage of me. That's very guardian angel."

"But it wasn't just about your safety or watching over you" Mick insisted, his voice becoming agitated. "Somewhere along the line you changed from a little girl to a beautiful woman and more than anything I wanted to be near you. Which is why I was at the fountain that night."

Beth's mind was working overtime. Mick had saved her. Mick had watched her grow up. Mick had wanted to be close to her.

The fang marks on her arm burned.

"You said" she talked slowly, knowing Mick was already spooked and likely to run at the first opportunity, "that once I saw everything in the file I could have anything I wanted."

Mick's face froze up and Beth could see he was back in cardboard cutout imitation mode Too late she realized he probably thought she was going ask him to leave and never come back. "I did say that." He responded.

"Well then" Beth swept the contents of the folder back into its envelope and stuck it a bedside table drawer, right on top of the Gideon Bible, "what I want is for you to forget about this. Stop calling yourself a stalker, and just be here, with me, tonight. Can you do that?"

A real smile appeared on Mick's face. Once again Beth was amazed (as she was every time he really smiled) at just how beautiful this man/not man was. "I can do that."

Beth could feel her heart beating faster and faster as Mick placed both of hands on either side of her face and leaned in and gently kissed her. She tried to grab on and reach Mick, pull him into something a little more passionate but even if he hadn't been a vampire the height/weight/strength difference was too big. So she settled for enjoying it.

"Thank you" Mick said, "for forgiving me."

"It's not forgiveness" Beth replied, speaking quickly so he wouldn't get the wrong message, "it's understanding."

They both smiled at that and once again Mick leaned forward to kiss her but this time Beth was free to grab and grope as she pleased. And oh yes please she wanted.

So she was about to cheat on her human, devoted boyfriend of almost a year. Who cared? So what the night had gotten off to a rocky start. So what if she had a huge revelation about a very important part of her past. None of it mattered.

Because Mick was kissing her.

A/N: Remember to review! The big change to rating M is coming up next chapter (I promise-I'm very nervous about it) so help me out by telling how wonderful I am now and my fingers will fly across the keyboard even faster. That means review folks! Until we meet again, Blessed Be!


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